Romancing the Blog | Romance Authors and Readers Who Blog

Consider the following:

• In a particularly memorable review of one of my books, the reviewer took my poor (literally) heroine to task for shopping at Wally’s World.
• In another, otherwise positive review, the critic couldn’t understand why the hero would be interested in the “frumpy” heroine.
• On a readers’ board, one heroine was soundly trounced for refusing to take money from her slimy ex (money, BTW, she didn’t need and saw as his lame attempt to buy his way out of his previous jackass behavior).
• A reader e-mailed me, declaring she’d never read another one of my books because the (clearly intelligent) heroine described herself as “acting like a blonde.”

And so it goes. Oddly (or tellingly), in more than twenty books, not once has anyone ever criticized my heroes. But my heroines? Aiyiyi.

I find that very curious.

Granted, most of the time, I can shrug it off. I take reader expectations into account as much as the next romance author – within reason – but I also bust my butt to ensure my characters’ actions are consistent with who they are. I can’t worry about whether someone with Wal-Mart issues is going to take offense because my dirt poor heroine, living in a small Oklahoma town where that’s pretty much the only choice, shops there. Or, if the whole point of my story is how the “frumpy” gal gets the hunky guy, then why would I make her glam? Or if the heroine’s character arc depends on her breaking all ties to the man who systematically inflicted emotional abuse on her for years, then heck yeah, she would see taking money from him as continuing to give him power over her and her children. If she’d been starving, homeless or her kids were in jeopardy, then by all means, give that woman a TSTL T-shirt. Since she wasn’t, I was quite surprised by the vehemence with which the poor woman was attacked.

So from time to time, I wonder. . .why can our heroes get away with all manner of scurrilous behavior, and yet we’re often so hard on our heroines? We roll our eyes at heroines who are too sweet/innocent/doormattish/wimpy/perfect, and yet introduce a gal who shops where we wouldn’t, or tells her dirtbag ex that she don’t need his stinkin’ money, or is a WYSIWYG kind of gal, or can crack a blonde joke about herself, and suddenly everyone’s all over the poor thing. Okay, so not everyone, but enough to make this author go Hmmm. . .

Is it because of the whole identification thing, that so many readers see themselves as the heroine that they have a serious problem with those who don’t act or think exactly as they would? Or, perhaps, should? Does reading about a woman who actually yells at her kids make us cringe because we all know it’s awful and ugly, but how many of us have done it? Is it hard to read about a love-handled heroine in ten-year-old clothes without feeling as though we’re looking in a mirror (and isn’t that a depressing image?). Is it because we don’t like being reminded of the stupid stuff we’ve all done at some point in our lives?

And yet, 24 million viewers (most of them women, no doubt) adore DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES. And the more insane those gals act, the more we love them. So what gives?

Personally, I prefer to read (and write) women whose thoughts and words make me nod my head in empathy, or laugh out loud because I so get where they’re coming from. Women, who occasionally get bitchy and scared and act a little loony and, yes, sometimes buy their jeans from the Evil Empire. Still, I don’t expect these fictional women to be me, to always make the same decisions I would. That places an unfair burden on both author and character. As long as a character’s actions make sense given the parameters the author’s set for her, I’m willing to go along for the ride. Most of the time, anyway. I do draw the line at discovering, at the end of the book, she’s been hacking innocent people to bits and such. Otherwise I can enjoy reading a snarky heroine as much as a shy one, a sexual gourmand as much as a virgin. Or give me a good enough reason for, say, a heroine’s decision not to tell the father of her child that she’s pregnant, and I’ll accept that decision. As long as she’s not keeping body parts in her freezer, I’m basically a whatever kind of gal.

And even so, there will always be that special author who can even pull off the body parts thing.

From everything I’ve heard, readers crave more variety in their romance than ever before. Not all readers want the same things, obviously, but still, it seems to me the more we slap our heroines on their wrists, the less likely authors are to venture outside the sweet/innocent/perfect box (not me, but then I’m too old and ornery to be easily intimidated). We may not always agree with, or even like, the women who strut across the pages of our romances today, but we gotta give ‘em credit for daring to be different, for having the cojones to be themselves.

Not who we think they should be.

The first five pages… If you aren’t a writer, you may not realize how important those five pieces of paper are. Over and over you hear that agents, editors and even some reviewers only give a book or manuscript five pages (at most) to grab them. That competition is so intense, that if in under 1,500 words or so they don’t think the book/writing is up to par they will move on–slap a rejection in an envelope, or stick the manuscript on the don’t-bother pile. Studies show that readers do the same thing when shopping–they pick up a book, read the back, then flip it open to the first page, scan a bit, then either put it back on the shelf or buy it.

Many writers scream when they hear this. FIVE PAGES! How can anyone decide if they like something in five pages? How can that in any way be a fair test?

I, however, totally understand this. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say I have never read a book that in the first five pages I thought “ugh” and gone on to discover I even somewhat like it. If you are judging a contest, the expectation is that you DO finish the book no matter how much you hate it–but I’m here to tell you, as I slog through prose that just isn’t my thing the score inevitably goes down instead of up. The authors would fare much better if I did put the thing down. I tend to get a bit grumpy when forced to read something I don’t like.

So, how about you? Can you think of a novel that in the first five pages you were sure wasn’t your thing, but went on to read and love? Or are you with the industry professionals who toss a manuscript/book aside if it doesn’t grab them? Is it totally unfair to jump so quickly to judgement? Are some of us missing out on potentially great reads? And exactly how far will you slog through something before giving up and going to clean your grout instead? Are all of us five-page readers, going to burn in book-lover hell?

Muses are elusive creatures. They can disappear for months only to come bouncing back into your mind with a myriad ideas. I hadn’t heard from my muse lately. But over the weekend I was doing a directed mediation and as I was directed to go deep within myself, I glimpsed her. She was lounging on my hypothalamus, contemplating another Margarita. Having located her, I coaxed her back into my frontal lobes. Since she is in a chatty mood, I thought it would be the perfect time to ask her a few questions and share them here.

ME: Glad to see you again, Muse. By the way, do you have a name?

MUSE: Names within the muse community are very difficult for our humans to pronounce. Feel free to call me Peony.

ME: Okay, Peony. I suppose we should start at the first. Where do muses come from?

MUSE: The original muses were Greek Goddesses, daughters of Zeus. But we really don’t have much connection with them. We just exist.

ME: Why do you tend to disappear?

MUSE: Hey I give you an idea, that’s my job. Then you write it, I don’t. Do you have any idea of how many ideas I drop off into your brain that you don’t do anything with? Then you bad mouth me about drinking a margarita. Not like you’ve never had a margarita.

ME: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Peony. You don’t understand writer’s block.

MUSE: Don’t give me that writer’s block stuff. I’m not talking writer’s block. I’m talking about writers who think their muse is to do all the work. This is a collaborative work; you have to do your part too.

ME: What about those who do have writer’s block?

MUSE: Writer’s block is terrifying. For both the writer and their muse. We get locked out of our home. The block keeps us away from our humans, and we don’t like that. We can’t survive without our humans.
ME: (hands Peony a Kleenex and she blows her nose. Loudly) Let’s get into something more pleasant. What do muses do in their spare time?

MUSE: Well, it depends upon the muse, just like with humans. I tend to hang out with other writer muses. You know your buddy Andi has a wild Irishman for a muse. Trust me, you don’t want to go partying with him. I’ve never seen anyone who can drink so much Bushmills. But we tend to have working holidays. We have conferences, various ones for different types. You know, our versions of RWA national and RT.

ME: RT? You have cover muse contests?

MUSE: Of course, some of those cover muses are buff and darn hot.

ME: Yes, well. Let’s get back on course. One of my critique partners wants to know who are your influences and who do you base your heroes on?

MUSE: Influences? A good muse should be open to all input. We keep an eye open for any thing or one that is new or different. We like to twist ideas; it’s our favorite thing to do. And sometimes that isn’t easy. Do you realize how difficult it is in your brain? I keep bumping into images of hockey players.

ME: You don’t like hockey?

MUSE: Well yes, but it’s difficult to come up with a regency idea when you’re staring at a hockey player.

ME: You managed to do it.

MUSE: Yes, I did. And I have to admit, I think he’d look absolutely delicious in nice regency garb. The cut of the jacket on those wide shoulders.

ME: Peony!

MUSE: What? You asked!

ME: Yes, I did. Instead of discussing my weakness for hockey players, how about what makes you happy? How does a writer maintain a good working relationship with her muse?

MUSE: Several things we need. Appreciation. When we provide our humans will excellent ideas, there is nothing better than to watch the human work with it. It hurts when all we hear is blame that the muse isn’t producing. Usually it’s the writer who isn’t doing their part. You work with our ideas, we’ll keep them coming. Feed us well. We love nothing more than learning new things we can use. Or even just people watching. That is always entertaining. Give us a challenge and we’ll meet it. Also a margarita or even a good ice cream sundae occasionally won’t hurt.

ME: Thanks for your time and your advice, Peony.

MUSE: You’re very welcome. And everyone, just remember to be kind to your muse. And by the way, Sandy, we haven’t gone to that ice cream parlor downtown lately.

I’m going to admit something. I am starting to get pissed. (No, I’m not talking about the British version of the word.) Let me just say, it takes a LOT to piss me off. I’m kind of one of those slow burn people. I don’t get mad easy, but once I do forgetaboutit. I rarely forgive and I NEVER forget. What has my knickers in such a twist? Is it the politics of publishing? The controversy over the Rita Award? Erotic romance versus traditional romance? Ah, no.

What has me in a rolling boil is something that happens whenever I start to chat with strangers. The conversation is cruising along pleasantly, then someone asks what I do for a living. Now, you have to realize something: when I was a flight attendant, I always received one of two responses to my answer. The first was “Oh, I always wanted to be a flight attendant, but…” The second veered off into the rude realm. There are only so many times you can hear “Did you ask, coffee, tea, or me?” before someone loses an eye.

So back to my pleasant conversation, which went something like this:

“Jordan, what do you do for a living?”
I smile that brittle ‘get me the hell out of here’ kind of smile before answering, “I write.”
“Oh, do you have anything published?”
I debate whether to answer truthfully because I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. “Yes, a few.”
“What do you write?”
At this point, I’m ready to throw up my salad. “Erotic romance, urban fantasy, and paranormal stuff,” I say, declining to go into detail about vampires and werewolves at the table for fear of sounding insane.
“I’ve always wanted to write a book. I even have an idea that I think would be great.”
You and every other person in this outdoor mall. Stop talking about it and just do it.

No, I don’t say that last part aloud…at least not all of the time. *g*

Why is it that most people think writing a book is the equivalent to applying lipstick? Just pick any old color and slap it on your lips. It baffles me. There’s no researching the market or learning how to write. That’s just silly stuff. They think that if they slap words on the page it will suddenly morph into a book. Yep, and if I stare at Heidi Klum long enough, I’ll suddenly grow five inches and drop seventy pounds.

The other day I was speaking with a friend of mine, who had started writing a book several months ago. I asked him how it was coming along. His answer really struck home to me. He said, “Not very well. I wrote quite a bit, but then lost interest.” I asked why and he responded, “I needed something that gave me more instant gratification.”

I have to say I was shocked. I never once thought of writing a book as a way to achieve instant gratification. I think that’s the part of the equation that most people miss. They think that you write a book, it’s immediately published, and then you’re rich forever. No one thinks about the blank screen, deadlines, or dropped deals. Writing a book is a fairytale to them, much like fame.

The second the work starts most people are out of there. And frankly, I’m grateful. It’s already an over-crowded playing field.

by Julie Kenner

Ideas.

They’re pesky little beasts, aren’t they? When you need an idea (like, say, now, because I just promised my editor I’d get her an idea for a new Blaze contract) they are few and far between. But when you don’t need an idea (like, say, now, for any idea that’s not a Blaze because I am on the world’s most killer deadline — no, really! — and I don’t have time to let my wander while I play with each and every Incredibly Complex And Fantastically Scintillating Thriller idea that pops into my head) it’s all you can do to keep the ideas from keeping you up at night.

Or, rather, it’s all you can do to keep the ideas from distracting you while you desperately try to figure out what the bad guy in your current (due VERY soon) manuscript) is going to do next. I’ll give you a hint: the answer isn’t going to be found in that other idea!

Does this happen to anyone else, or am I the only victim of the grass is always greener over the other idea syndrome? That lovely mental place where — while you’re totally blocked on your current plot — other plots, characters, set-ups, and witty banter — come full-blown into your head. I tell you, it’s enough to make a girl batty (and dive for the Post-its to scribble down these fantabulous ideas for later).

I’ve given two speeches recently after which folks in the audience asked the dreaded “where do you get your ideas” question. The answer, of course, is simple. Wal-mart. (I said it was simple; I didn’t say it was accurate.)

The frustrating thing about being handed this question during a public speaking stint is that I don’t have a serious way to answer it because (gasp!) I truly don’t know where the answers come from. Pop culture, mostly, I suppose, since a lot of my ideas seem to spring from a PC sort of place (and I don’t necessarily mean politically correct). But the actual down and dirty kernel of an idea? That is truly difficult to pinpoint. For my Carpe Demon series, I was actually brainstorming romance ideas, thinking about alpha males who hunted demons. But I also wanted to do mommy lit. Somehow, someway, the two thoughts smashed up against each other. Not unlike the old Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup commercials, actually — two great ideas that go great together! And a whole new story was born. But what made that synapse happen? Where did the demon-hunter idea come from in the first place? I’d have to say pop culture is about as specific an answer I can find. That sort of amorphous culture-o-sphere from which so many ideas seemed to get pulled from.

Another interesting (read: neurotic) thing that I do is keep a story file. It’s actually become a story box over the years. One of those plastic hanging file boxes. If I have a story idea or see an interesting article or write a scene with no actual purpose in one of my books, I’ll take the page and toss it in there. I’ve had this box forever. I recently dug all the way to the bottom in it and ran across a note: Audition. Girl. Guy. Date? Story with JCD?

I have to say it made me smile, because I’d written the comment on the back of a receipt while I guy I met at an audition was off buying us beer. We ended up dating for a short while (and we’re still good friends; I emailed him after this discovery and he was as amused as I was!). The note was contemporaneous with that first post-audition pseudo-date. And that was in (gasp, choke) 1988. When I was (ahem) five years old.

And in all that time, that scrap of paper has been in there … and yet it’s never morphed into an actual story. For some reason, I find that fascinating.

Every once in a while, I’ll go through the box, usually when I’m up for contract. And what is so interesting is that reviewing these tidbits seems to get my brain moving — because I usually end up with a proposal idea — but the tidbit never seems to spark the actual idea. In other words, none of the ideas in my box ever make it to an actual story. Does that make sense? Does anyone else do that?

I wonder about that a lot: What are other folks’ processes for stimulating their mind to come up with that spark of an idea. I think we’ve pretty much figured out here that my process is too amorphous to be of much help to anyone (except, perhaps, a grad student studying non-linear thinking!). But does anyone else want to share their process?

And if you happen to be in the Idea Aisle at Wal-Mart … save a few good ones for me!

Signs you know you’re reading a really good book:

1. The big sigh of contentment after reaching The End.
2. Tears stream down your face as you try to fight sleep just to read one more chapter, and then another after that. And another. Until The End.
3. “Not tonight, honey.”
4. You find yourself fondling and gazing lovingly at it when you can’t read it.
5. You’ve got your nose in it while making supper.
6. And while eating supper.
7. And while cleaning up afterwards. Watch those suds!
8. “Uh huh” is a perfectly acceptable answer for anything your husband/significant other/just about anyone asks/tells you. Usually you will later regret this.
9. That book goes everywhere. On errands, while doing housework, the bathroom… Oh, you know it’s going into the bathroom with you. Don’t even try to deny it.
10. You find yourself praising it everyone you know, everywhere you go. And occasionally to people you don’t know.

There’s something truly special about a good book. It’s like a drug. You can’t resist that feeling of euphoria. Yet, it’s not always easy to find that magic book. But search you will. Find you will. And search again.

One of the first truly magical romances I ever read was Brighter Than the Sun by Julia Quinn. From the first couple pages, the characters came alive. I found myself smiling inside and out and couldn’t stop reading. It’s one of those books that’s made it onto my keeper shelf and evokes the same emotions every time I read it. When I grabbed it recently to check some facts to make sure my memory was correct, I found myself flipping through it again and reading some of the wonderful scenes inside. Ellie and Charles struck me as genuine. They ring true to me, unlike so many others. There’s something almost magical about the combination of author voice and the characters themselves that brings the book to life for me.

As I thought about that story and what made me know I had read a wonderful book, I asked a simple question of some friends. Here are their answers to the question of what makes a good book:

“It makes me feel happy inside. …it’s like I want to wiggle. And I want to read every word, not skim like I normally do.” - Jay

“If the characters feel authentic. They think things that “real” people think. They act like “real” people act. They say things that “real” people say. Believe it or not, this is not a slam dunk in a lot of romances, or other forms of fiction for that matter.” - Wendy

“Like Wendy, it’s whether or not the characters feel real, like people I might actually know–and can identify a characteristic of.

Some mediocre romances are pleasant enough to read, but you don’t get a sense of the h/h: do they prefer coffee over tea, are they quick to anger, are they thinkers rather than doers. That kind of stuff makes the book come alive for me.” – Megan Frampton, author of A Singular Lady (a most excellent Regency romance, by the way)

“I’m tempted to read faster and faster to get to the end to see what happens, but then again, I hope the book never ends because I want the warm, glowy good book feeling to last forever. “ - AngieW

For me it’s when we quickly get to see the hero and heroine and right off the bat I like them. I judge quickly if it’s going to be a good one and when I want to read more about the hero/heroine I know it’s going to be good. – Kristie

I loved reading these answers, but it also shows how personal reading can be. What I think are “real” characters, may not ring true for another. But when all the pieces “click” and those characters come alive, no matter your requirements, it’s a magical moment.

It’s getting harder and harder for me to walk out of my local bookstores with books. Why? Because half the time the books I went to buy aren’t in the store.

My local Barnes & Noble and Borders are overflowing with romance novels, many of them trades. You’d think that would be a good thing, but it’s not. I was reading one of my professional association newsletters and saw the term “shelf confusion”–too many books, making it difficult for readers to decide what to buy. I call it “frustrating”, because I’m not having difficulty choosing books, I’m having difficulty finding them. Is it because there’s not enough room?

One of my greatest joys is touching books in the bookstore, picking them up, thumbing through them, taking them to the register, and then taking them home. It’s as good as chocolate to me, and when I leave the store empty handed, it’s like drooling through the candy shop window. Denied.

The trade section of my BN once held six or seven titles face-out in a very nice display. If you go there now, titles are stacked in front of other titles, so you have to dig through them and hope you find the one you want. More and more often lately, the selection is not complete. (Something readers have been grumbling about on loops and message boards all year long.) I used to be able to find a fairly decent backlist of some author’s books. Now, unless you’re looking for Nora, you’ll be lucky to find the very latest book of the author you want to buy.

Finding newer authors is especially problematic. Several of my newly published friends’ books never made it into either of my local chain stores. Some of the newer erotic imprints have more than one release a month, but you’ll only find one out of the two or three offerings.

I finally signed up for Amazon’s Advantage program after I realized just how many new releases weren’t available in the stores. Getting free shipping with my $25+ orders was nice, but they took too darn long to get to me. The instant gratification of walking into a bookstore was now a week long wait. The two-day waiting with the Advantage program sucks, but it’s better than nothing, which is what I’m finding in my bookstores. The selection of books varies across the country, but the complaints are nationwide.

Borders Group recently posted a huge loss for the last quarter, which led to employee layoffs. Industry professionals are worried about the decline of the mass market format. And I’m sitting here with money in my hands and a desperate desire for books, and I can’t find them.

Are we truly releasing so many books that we’re hurting sales? Has distribution of books become a problem? Why are readers going into bookstores and coming home mad? Whatever it is, I hope there’s a solution.

I have books I want to buy.

Jenny Bent is a literary agent with the Trident Media Group., where she represents a wide range of projects, fiction and nonfiction. Since becoming an agent in 1996, she has represented thirteen New York Times bestsellers. She also works with a number of bestselling romance authors, including JoAnn Ross, Julia London, Lynsay Sands, and Janelle Denison. Jenny has a BA/MA with first class honors from Cambridge University in the UK; she grew up in Harrisonburg, Virginia. She has a website at www.jennybent.com, and her articles have been reprinted in the Writer’s Digest 2003 Guide to Literary Agents and in various websites for authors. The Trident Media Group represents such bestselling authors as Catherine Coulter, Janet Evanovich, T. Jefferson Parker, Elizabeth George, Jon Stewart, Rex Pickett (the author of Sideways), Mel Brooks, Christopher Andersen, Marilynne Robinson (this year’s Pulitzer prize winner for Gilead), Russell Banks, and Michael Ondaatje.

Jenny is happy to answer questions on any topic, but not about individual submissions, please.

By Eileen Rendahl / Literary Chicks

You know when a telemarketer calls and there’s that pause between when you say hello and they realize that they’ve actually got a person on the line and talk to you? When that happens, I like to yell, “Baxter? Baxter, is that you? Bark twice if you’re in Milwaukee!” If you’ve never seen Anchorman, you won’t get that joke. I, on the other hand, crack myself up with it every time.

I also think David Sedaris is excruciatingly funny. I read Naked and almost died while reading about him licking the light switches in his second grade classroom. My sister read it and thought it was sad. “There are medications for that,” she said, tears in her eyes. “His own mother was more interested in making fun of him than she was in helping him.”

Needless to say, she’s much nicer than me. My sense of humor and I are just the sconchiest bit on the mean side. For instance, that commercial where one guy tells the other that his phone has theft protection and then whips the phone at the other guy’s head to prove it? Oh. My. God. Too too funny.

The one with the weird guy dressed in white, flashing V signs with his fingers and hawking Volkswagens? Not so much. Maybe if they were a little meaner. Or maybe I just need a different kind of mean.

Clearly, humor is subjective. Mention the Three Stooges in mixed company and you will find an immediate division between who thinks Curly represents the pinnacle of classic humor and those who would just as soon let Mo poke out their eyes than watch one of those movies.

So what’s a supposedly funny girl to do?

When my agent was sending out my first chick lit manuscript, she told me she thought I had an excellent eye for the absurd. I told her that if that was true, it was only because my own life was so darn ridiculous.

It’s true. It is. I have a loving, but seriously flakey, family. My sister once ordered “Eggs Any Style” at IHOP. Seriously, she asked the waitress for the Any Style Eggs. A few weeks ago, on the very day an article about me ran in The Sacramento Bee, I ran face first into a real bee and had my lip swell up to grotesque proportions. My other sister was exchanging e-mails with a new beau about movies they liked or disliked. Due to some typos, instead of telling her “You’re right. It was inane”, he sent her an e-mail that said “Your right tit was inane.” I mean, please, who could make this stuff up?

On the other hand, some people didn’t think the bee thing was funny and started advising me about carrying epi pens in case I was allergic. While I was laughing, they were concerned that I might stop breathing. My sister does NOT think the Any Style story is funny and if she figures out that I posted it here is likely to exact revenge of some sort. My other sister, on the other hand, thinks we should consult her left tit on serious questions since it’s clearly her more serious mammary gland.

Anyway, this is the stuff that cracks me up. It’s the stuff of my life which is peopled with quirky characters and everyday adventures. Since it’s what I find funny, it’s what I put in my books.

That’s my point. Trying to be funny is hard work. Trying to find humor that will please everyone is impossible. Like so much else in this business, you have to trust your instincts. Tell the stories that make you laugh, cry or shake with terror. Just don’t expect everyone to laugh, cry or shake with you.

Meanwhile, my fiancé has dared me to ask the next telemarketer who calls what he or she is wearing. I haven’t gotten up the nerve to do it yet, but I’m pretty sure than when I do, it’ll be really funny.

I remember when I first started reading romances–the GOOD ones that my mother would still smack me for enjoying when I was “too young” to know what “juicy” really meant–I don’t think I once looked at that author’s name. I was pretty much entranced by the half-nekkid man bending a woman over his arm while she simultaneously begged for freedom and “more”. Personally, he could drop her for all I cared. If she wanted to get away that bad, let her go.

But I digress.

Later, I discovered category romances where the clingy couple were actually hanging onto each other and decided I enjoyed these as well. But I still didn’t look at the author name. Yes, once again, I was lead by an excellent manly chest and piercing eyes that stared at me through the cover as if to say, “Open me. Come inside and I’ll belong to you.” What twelve year old could resist?

Ahem…sorry, digressing again.

So, yes, about the time I was 15, I realized I had a few books on my keeper shelf that were by the same author, and a few by another author and so on. My OCD was starting to assert itself and I was arranging everything by alpha order (And book height) (And category) (Er…and release date). Even at that age, I was a voracious reader and fairly picky about which books I would keep, so discovering only a few authors were remaining on the shelf made me realize what I had been missing. Authors are how you find the good books, not the line! Not even the publisher!

This was very stunning news for me. It was like someone handing Pandora the key to the box. Since I was a kid and a broke one at that, I’m sure y’all will forgive me for having run immediately to my nearest used bookstore, piggy bank (okay, fine, old grocery bag full of change) in hand to see if these top secret authors had books I could afford.

Thus began not only my close relationship with the UBS store owner but also my understanding of the publishing industry. And, if I was very lucky, what my place in it might be.

Fast forward 15 years or so and I’m once again confused.

In the last year, many of you have been able to watch my conversion from happy go lucky/bitter, frustrated writer to contracted author and now to published author–you’ll have to check my blog for details on that–so you’re probably hoping “The Neurotic One” will settle down and stop worrying. Alas, butterflies still take a half-hour out of their brief three-day life span to dry the wings and ask themselves where they are going. Which explains what all my flapping is about.

You see, my first book is a romantic comedy. It’s fun, it’s fast, it’s a little bit frisky. Second book? Not so much. I’m sure it has it’s fun and it definitely has it’s frisky (heroine first sees hero when accidentally seeing him through a bathroom window while he takes a shower), but it’s more of a mainstream style romance. It’s a different genre and as a result, there’s a difference in the tone. So what happens to readers who read the first book and go into the second expecting more of the same?

Does an author have an expectation to fulfill to the reader to be a one-genre pony? When an author changes genre, should they do it early in their career so readers know to expect the unexpected? Does building a readership in only one genre make it difficult for an author—or any artist for that matter—to switch hit later? And what of the reader? Will a reader follow a good author anywhere they go? Or are readers locked into categories?

What do you think?

Dee